Something Warm, Happy, and Soft
by littlelinguistme
Summary: In which Shinichi is sleepy and Shiho makes blueberry pancakes. For Poe


**Something Warm, Happy, and Soft** by littlelinguistme  
Written for Poe, who has brought me immeasurable peace

 **Disclaimer:** Please don't sue me. All recognizable elements belong to Gosho.

* * *

Like always, she wakes before he does. Her eyes remain closed but she can tell it's still dark. Early. Definitely too early to get up yet. The crisp January air nips at her exposed shoulders, sending a shiver down her spine. She burrows into her husband and reaches down to grab a piece of comforter to cover them both.

Warmth sweeps over them in an instant. Shiho sighs in contentment. She lets the gentle pitter patter of the rain on the roof lull her to sleep once more. Shinichi nuzzles the top of her head, pulling her closer in response to something in his dream. Their world is at peace.

* * *

She can hear his steady breathing, feel his chest rise and fall. Her husband doesn't quite snore rather he breathes a little louder than he does in his waking life. Now, his exhales are the only sound in the room. The rain has stopped and she thrills in the feel of his arms all around her.

Once, this was strange and uncomfortable and unwanted. Years of patient partnership had whittled the discomfort down until there was nothing left but love. She couldn't imagine a life without Shinichi anymore. When she travelled for a conference, or he for a case, they both had trouble sleeping.

She adjusted her head on his chest.

He'd saved her countless times. From the Organization. From despair. From herself. He happily shared her joys and solemnly shouldered her past. It seemed there was nothing that could put off her bright boy from being with her.

He was there through all the times she'd clammed up and shut him out. Each time, he'd wear her down with ridiculous romantic stunts and gigantic bouquets. She suppressed a laugh thinking about what he'd done last Valentine's Day.

Deciding she's spent enough time lounging in bed, Shiho strains to glance at the clock behind her, trying not to jostle and wake her mister. It's a futile effort; she can tell consciousness is returning to him. She waits.

"It's Saturday," he whines, voice gruff from sleep still. "Why are you up so early?"

"I've slept enough, I think. It's nine isn't it?" She feels him sigh before presumably cracking an eye open to check the same clock she wanted to look at earlier.

"Holy Holmes, it's only 7:30." He pulls her body in closer. "Let me sleep a little longer."

"I never said you have to get up with me," she squirms against him.

"Noo," he pouts into her hair, almost inaudible but she can just make him out. "Stay wiff meee." Shiho rolls her eyes at his childish behavior.

"Let go of me, Kudo."

"You're warm, stay."

"You're being ridic- I need to go."

"I love you! Don't leave me." He wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace and rolls them both so she's on her back and his full weight is sprawled across her. He lazily kisses her neck and his hair tickles her nose.

"I'm not leaving you, Shin, I'm starting my day." She grunts trying to push him off. "You're heavy."

He nods into the crook of her neck in response. "Good. But I also happen to know you don't have a day to get to. We're off on Saturdays, sweet." He pauses and she can just feel the mischief coming off him in waves. "But if you want something to do, I can think of a few things we could do, right here, in this bed." He punctuates every pause with a thrust of his hips.

"Get off me, _dog,_ I can't breathe."

"An S day, huh. Your wish is my command, mistress~" He can't resist adding in a dramatic quip but nevertheless obediently rolls off her. Six years into their marriage taught him well to know when enough was enough.

Shiho rethinks the roughness of her tone as she gets up. Shinichi is always a little extra needy in the mornings, she knows that. Pulling on the first clean shirt she could find, incidentally his, she asks him, "What do you want for breakfast?"

"Whatever you're feeling is fine." He's sitting up in bed, watching her. He stretches upwards with a yawn, shivering at the same time from the cold caused by the loss of her.

She pads over to him, giving him a kiss on the temple. "I want to make something for you." Shinichi contemplates her offer.

"Blueberry pancakes?"

Shiho smiles at him. "Coming right up." Before she can leave, his hand catches hers.

"Can I help? I want to make them together."

Shiho inwardly grimaced, already calculating how much time his 'help' would add to cooking and cleaning. Six years of marriage and private cooking lessons had done absolutely _nothing_ for him in the way of culinary skill. But he looked so eager.

She sighed, already regretting her answer. "You can wash the blueberries."

"I'll cut them too!"

"You don't need to cut blueberries, Shin."

"Right, I knew that!" She laughs at his completely serious face.

"Come, brush up and wash your face. I don't need you cutting your fingers off because you're still half-asleep."

Together, they get up and walk to the master bathroom. She turns on the water and lets it run to warm up. He's changing into day clothes by the other sink. When she finishes washing, Shiho moves behind Shinichi and, acting on a whim, hugs him from behind.

She whispers into his ear, "maybe we can go back to bed after breakfast," and releases him. Hips swaying, she heads towards the kitchen.

Mouth stretched into a full grin, Shinichi hurriedly brushes his teeth and washes up. By the time he's joined Shiho in the kitchen, she's got the batter fully mixed and the pan heating on the stove. As promised, a basket of blueberries sits unwashed by the sink. They work in comfortable silence, not needing words to express themselves any longer.

Despite his best efforts, or perhaps, because of his best efforts, the blueberries come out a little more squashed than he or Shiho would've liked. Regardless, into the pancakes they went.

She likes them, she tells him at breakfast. Maybe she is in a sentimental mood because of his earlier declaration but she tells him that the pancakes they made together taste better than any other she's ever had. They taste like love and a warm embrace.

 **Words: 1,065**


End file.
